From Wonso Pond (9 page)

“Sonbi, go and hide those somewhere. Someone might see them . . . What is that vagrant up to, anyway?”

The more Sonbi's mother thought about it the stranger it all seemed. Then all of a sudden she was seized with fear. Mother and son had been terribly ostracized by the village, but Ch'otchae had made a name for himself as well by getting drunk and picking fights.

Sonbi, for her part, felt a little hurt by her mother's words, though she didn't really know why. She was overcome by an indescribable sadness when she looked at the bundle of sumac, a sadness that just wouldn't go away. For some reason, she simply couldn't pull herself away from these feelings. Only after glancing at her mother lying in bed did she manage to pick up the bundle of sumac and go into the spare room. As she stepped up to the door she thought, Did Ch'otchae really stay up all night long digging these roots? She pictured Ch'otchae's face in her mind's eye, just as it had appeared earlier that morning in the doorway.

Why in the world had he brought these over? A pink flush then rose to her cheeks, as her whole body was gripped by a fear. Without thinking she flung the bundle of sumac roots to the floor and ran out of the room as though something were chasing her.

15

Several days later, Sonbi's mother passed away. Thanks to Tokho's good graces, Sonbi managed to hold a funeral service. She then moved into Tokho's house for good. It was decided that she would stay in the room opposite the inner room, a room Okchom (Tokho's daughter) used to stay in.

Tokho and his wife treated Sonbi more kindly now that her mother had died, because they felt sorry for her. Besides, when it came to doing chores around the house, they would have been hard-pressed to find anyone more capable than Sonbi. With Sonbi now at her beck and call, Okchom's mother left all the housework to her.

Okchom's mother came out of the inner room with a long pipe stuck between her lips and found Sonbi on her knees, washing down the breezeway floor with a rag. Taking the pipe from her mouth, she said,

“Let Granny do that. You go and work on Okchom's clothes.” Turning to the kitchen she called, “Granny. Come do the floors.”

Sonbi put her rag back into the basin and went to the kitchen. She
washed her hands and returned to the breezeway. Okchom's mother then came from the inner room carrying everything Sonbi needed for measuring and cutting out her daughter's clothes.

“Now, Sonbi, from what I hear, it's the fashion in Seoul nowadays to wear everything well-fitted, so I want you to make these quite tight.”

Sonbi took the material and sat down in front of the sewing machine. She made a few adjustments to the machine, then set herself to work. She spun the wheel of the machine for a while, then suddenly brought it to a stop. Through the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Granny, who had worn herself out scrubbing the floor. She was now sitting there out of breath, her eyes glazed over. Sonbi felt sorry for Granny whenever she saw her like this.

“Don't tell me it's all that hard just to wipe the floor!”

At Okchom's mother's shriek, Granny practically jumped out of her skin and quickly went back to her scrubbing. Okchom's mother glared at the old woman as she scrubbed. The older ones are lazy, the younger ones don't listen—maybe I should just get my hands on a kid, she wondered.

Just then, Tokho came in. Okchom's mother barely glanced at him. He had practically moved into the house where his concubine was living.

“Well now, look who's found his way back home!”

Tokho's face tightened, his eyes glaring at her.

“You're the one causing all this trouble around here. And believe me, I'm sure as hell not here to see the likes of you.”

Glancing over at Sonbi, who was working at the sewing machine with her back to him, Tokho stepped into the breezeway.

“I just got a letter from Okchom. She says she's sick . . . It's no wonder things like this happen to us with all the evil tricks you're up to.”

He took the letter out of his pocket and tossed it to the floor. Okchom's mother became very upset. She picked up the letter and stared at it.

“Read it to me word for word. I can't understand these cursive letters. What does she say is wrong with her?”

Tokho took back the letter from his wife and read it out loud. Soon tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Well, what should we do? You know, I've been having nightmares recently and I'm sure this is why. Do you think I should go see her?”

“And just what use would you be there? I'm the one who's got to go. Now hurry up and get my things ready.”

In no time at all the the couple's anger toward each other had subsided. Okchom's mother went into the inner room.

“Sonbi,” she cried, “stop what you're doing and start working on this. Granny, heat up some charcoal for the iron.”

Sonbi neatly folded the clothes she'd been working on and went into the inner room.

“Sew a collar onto this right away,” the woman barked. “When's the next car leaving?” She looked to her husband, who was peering into the room.

“Car? What car? I've got to ride a bicycle into town, then hop on a train.”

As Sonbi stitched on the collar, she thought of Okchom's big, round eyes. Though Sonbi didn't know what was wrong with Okchom, she knew how lucky Okchom was to have a mother and father at home who worried so much about her.

She felt sorry for herself and lonely, for she had no one in the world who cared about her, even when she was sick.

“When I go to Seoul, I want you to have Sonbi sleep at the other house.”

“Wait, who's going where? Why do you want Sonbi to . . . ?”

Okchom's mother stopped mid-sentence, her face growing long.

“Here we go again. I'm trying to get ready to go, and all she wants to do is cause more trouble.” Tokho dropped his chin into the palm of his hand with a slap.

Sonbi glanced at him anxiously. Tokho looked over at Sonbi, then recrossed his legs.

“Where the hell is this woman's common sense?”

Okchom's mother was about to say something, but she held her tongue.

Just then Blackie, the dog, scampered into the courtyard, barking at someone behind him.

16

The middle gate swung open and in walked Okchom.

“Mother!”

Surprised to hear her daughter's voice, Okchom's mother rushed outside. She threw her arms around her daughter's neck and burst into
tears. A stranger in a Western-style suit, who had followed Okchom inside, stood there awkwardly staring at the mother and daughter.

“What's all this about?” said Tokho from the breezeway. “When did you leave? And why didn't you send us a telegram ? You said you were sick . . .”

Okchom ran over and grabbed her father's hand.

“Father, this is the son of one of my teachers at school. He was on his way to MonggÅ­mp'o beach when we met on the train and I convinced him to stop by our house first.”

Who's that in the suit? was the thought that had crossed Tokho's mind upon seeing the young man, who had made him very uneasy. He was now quite relieved to hear that he was the son of his daughter's teacher.

Okchom turned to the well-dressed young man. “This is my father,” she said with a sweet smile.

The man quickly lifted his head, removed his hat, and came forward. He bowed to Tokho.

“Glad you could stop by. Come on inside,” said Tokho.

Tokho started into the house, followed by the others. Okchom's mother fixed her gaze on the man in the suit who walked in ahead of Okchom. If only she had a son like him, she thought.

“My baby, didn't you say you were sick? Your father was just about to go visit you,” she said, stepping up into the breezeway.

Okchom felt her cheeks going red. “Oh, Mother! Why do you still call me your ‘baby'?”

All of them laughed at this. Okchom looked back and forth between her father and the man.

“Daddy, I've decided to go to MonggÅ­mp'o beach, too.”

Tokho carefully examined the expression on his daughter's face.

“Well, are you feeling up to it? As long as you're not sick, you can go anywhere as far as I'm concerned.”

Okchom smiled gleefully and then looked over at her visitor. But then she remembered something.

“Mother, didn't you say that Sonbi moved in to my room?”

“Yes, she did . . .”

“Well, where am I supposed to go now?” she pouted.

Tokho looked at Okchom. At times like this, he thought, she was the spitting image of her mother.

“Now, don't you worry about it, dear. We'll just have Sonbi stay in here.”

Tokho smiled, and looked at the young man.

“Still acts like a child, that one, doesn't she? Hah, ha!”

The man in the suit smiled back. After just a few minutes, he understood how preciously Okchom was treated in this family.

“Sonbi! Get lunch ready.”

At her mother's words Okchom jumped to her feet.

“Is Sonbi really here? Right now?”

Rushing across the breezeway, Okchom ran into Sonbi coming out of her workroom.

“Sonbi! How have you been?”

Sonbi was about to take Okchom's hand when she caught a strong whiff of perfume, and suddenly pulled back.

As she did so, she could feel the warmth rush into her cheeks.

“Oh, Sonbi, you're so pretty now! How did you ever get to be so . . .”

Okchom unconsciously glanced over her shoulder. When she saw that all eyes in the inner room were fixed in their direction, she felt something forcing her eyes to twitch—the closest thing she'd ever felt to real jealousy. Now her own cheeks were burning.

Okchom spun around. Sonbi, her head down, went back into the kitchen, where Granny was busily preparing vegetables for a batch of
kimchi
.

“What is that man doing in there?” asked Granny, who found it offensive that an unmarried woman was traveling around with a man of no family relation.

“I have no idea,” she said, recalling that Okchom had introduced the man in the suit to her father. “Anyway, she wants us to cook some rice.”

“Cook more rice? We've got plenty leftover . . . She must want it for that man in there.”

As she washed one of the pots, Sonbi thought about Okchom's powdered face and her pretty Western clothes. She looked at the charcoal glowing in the oven.

“Sonbi, I want you to fetch two chickens.” Okchom's mother peered into the kitchen.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Her message delivered, the woman went back inside. Then, at the sound of something fluttering above her, Sonbi lifted her head.

17

A single swallow swooped around the kitchen ceiling. Then out it went, like a black arrow soaring into that blue sky. Sonbi let out a faint sigh. It was as though she was looking out at that sky for the very first time.

“Did you hear that? She said to get
two
chickens!” Granny looked over at Sonbi as she lit a fire in the stove. Her smile was so wide that crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes. Whenever they killed a chicken, she loved to suck on the leftover chicken bones from which the meat had been removed.

Bwock! Bwock! cried the chickens, startling Sonbi. She wiped her wet hands on her apron and ran out to the back gate. The chickens were squawking and walking in circles atop their nests as she approached the coop, but as soon as they noticed Sonbi, they began flapping their wings noisily to jump to the ground. The smell of manure hit Sonbi in the face. Chicken feathers floated lightly in the air.

Sonbi stood there for a moment, coughing, and once the chickens had moved out of the way, she peered into their nests. The eggs the chickens had laid only moments earlier seemed to be smiling sweetly at her. Breaking into a smile at the sight of them, Sonbi picked up the eggs from the nests. They still felt warm.

“This makes forty,” she said to herself, and made her way back to the kitchen.

Yu Sobang came inside clutching two young hens, blood still dripping from their necks. He looked over at Sonbi with a smile.

“Did they lay any more eggs?”

“Yes, they did.”

Sonbi was so excited to show off the warm eggs to somebody, anybody, that she thrust her hands right out in front of her.

“You sure have a thing for eggs,” said Granny, dropping the chickens into boiling water. “Counting these, Granny, I've got forty of them now.”

“Well good for you, dear! But what's the use of saving them up like that?” she added softly.

Sonbi was a little hurt by her words. But only for a moment. When she looked down at the eggs again, they seemed prettier than ever.

Sonbi quietly opened the door to the pantry and went inside. The smell of mildew greeted her. She took down the egg basket, placed it
atop a jar, and peeked inside. The chock-full basket still held the same of number eggs as it had before. She carefully placed each new egg inside, and just as she repeated the words ‘this makes forty', a beam of orange sunlight, streaking in through the crack in the doorsill, lit up her hand. After one last good look inside the basket, Sonbi came back out to the kitchen. She sat down next to Granny, who was plucking the feathers out of the chickens.

They finally finished preparing the lunch and had set their own bowls down on the stovetop to eat when Tokho came in.

“Sonbi, go eat in the inner room.”

Sonbi stood up. “No, thank you.”

“Now, do as you're told. Come inside and eat with Okchom.”

Tokho was being so impatient that Sonbi placed her spoon down on her tray as though she were finished. Tokho realized that it was useless to insist.